


head empty, heart full

by profound_garden



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Arsenal FC, F/F, arsenal wfc - Freeform, possibly ooc because jordan really does only have one braincell, technically 4 plus one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profound_garden/pseuds/profound_garden
Summary: Despite what people think, Jordan's actually a lot sharper than she seems — at least, when it comes to topics like football, or Leah. But there's one thing she just can't wrap her head around: the fact that Leah might feel the same way she does.or,4 times Jordan was a lot smarter than everyone thought, and 1 time she wasn't.
Relationships: Leah Williamson/Jordan Nobbs
Comments: 8
Kudos: 153





	head empty, heart full

**Author's Note:**

> look i love leah and i love jordan but sometimes in interviews jordan really just seems so... smooth-brained. this fic is my own personal attempt at denial of that. and also a chance to work through my own infatuation with leah. what else is fanfic for?

1.

Jordan doesn’t like being called stupid. No one _likes_ it, of course, but she gets it a little more than other people seem to, just because she’s a bit forgetful. Still, she’s pretty good at not letting things get to her — criticism, doubt, pressure — so she tries to let it roll off her back, just putting her head down and working hard. It’s still annoying, though. Which makes it that much better when she proves them wrong.

They were in a pub, the whole motley crew of teammates and their partners, on a rare weekend without a match because of holiday. Beth was laughing at something Lisa said while Viv looked on with blatant hearts in her eyes. Daan was in a fierce battle of darts with Lucy Bronze of all people, and Keira and Leah whispered and giggled in the corner. Jordan had just gone up to get the gang another round when the game on the flat screen caught her eye. Man City vs United, a rerun from last week but it was a hell of a match, she remembered.

“Bit of a football fan, eh?” The bartender met her eye with an easy smile. “You look like you're about ready to step onto the pitch.”

“Something like that,” Jordan smiled.

“I’m a City fan myself, but United gave them a bit of a scare in this one, eh?” He gestured back to the screen.

Jordan nodded, always happy to talk football. “‘Course, City was the favorite here, but their weakness is really shots outside of the box and Solskjær knows it. That’s why Marcus Rashford was trying for those long range shots every chance he got. If they had pressed more on defense it would’ve been an even closer game, but there’s a reason they’ve not got the position in the table that City’s got. Besides money, of course.”

The bartender laughed. “Bloody hell, you really know your stuff! I’ve watched this game about three times now and all I could figure was they’d better pass the ball more!”

“Bloody brilliant at tactics, this one,” Leah grinned proudly. Jordan hadn’t even noticed her come up behind her, slinging an arm over her shoulder. Since when had Leah been this touchy in public, she wondered, but was quickly drawn back into the conversation.

Eventually they made their way back to the group with a new round of pints. Leah’s arm had moved to Jordan’s waist while she was carrying the drinks, but it was definitely still there. Jordan prepared to blame her warm cheeks on the alcohol if anyone asked, but no one did, too eager to grab the new drinks and complaining about how long she had taken.

“She got sucked into the game on,” Leah explained. “Found her gushing about tactics with the bartender, hadn’t even ordered the drinks yet!” The girls just laughed, shaking their heads and saying it sounded like Jordan, while she jokingly pushed Leah away. “Traitor.”

Of course, Leah stumbled back almost instantly, leaning into Jordan and whispering, “Don’t worry, I love how much you love talking about football.”

Well. Maybe that wasn’t so bad, then.

2.

“Alright ladies, second time around, you should be masters at this by now, yeah?” The producer was setting up the cameras as Leah and Jordan took their seats. Apparently the England “Roommates” quizzes had been so popular with the fans the media team had decided to do another series.

“‘Course,” Jordan grinned. “We smashed this last time, didn’t we? 5 out of 5, both of us.”

“That’s right, you two were class,” the producer nodded. “We had to think of some harder questions this time around.”

Leah nudged Jordan. “Hear that? Maybe we should’ve studied. But you would’ve forgotten it anyway.”

Jordan shook her head, pretending not to look as amused as she was. “That joke’s old now. We’ll see who does better, huh? See who needs to study who.”

“Fighting words!” The producer grinned. “Okay, we’ll start rolling soon. You two have both filled out your answers, right?” After they nodded, he continued. “So we’ll start by having Leah guess first after the introductions.”

Leah did well, only missing one — she had misremembered which year Jordan had finished as Arsenal’s joint top scorer, alongside Dan Carter (2013, but Jordan thought that was a bit tough. She doubted she would have remembered that herself).

Jordan worked her way through Leah’s questions well too, hesitant on some answers but ultimately getting the first four correct.

“You’d better not get this one,” Leah grumbled as she confirmed the fourth answer. “Then it’ll be a draw.” Jordan just chuckled. Even if she didn’t show it as much as the other players sometimes, Leah was just as competitive as any of them. “We’ll see.”

“Okay, Jordan,” the producer signalled her, “last one. Bit tricky, this, too.”

“Right,” Jordan looked down at the tablet. “Who is Leah’s favorite country artist?” She only needed a beat to think. “Oh, that’s not so hard. It’s Luke Combs, innit?”

She was right. Leah gaped at her after she held up her card. “How did you know that? I’ve never told you that!”

Jordan just shrugged. “You play his songs a lot. And you rag on  _ me _ for always repeating music, huh?”

Leah just shoved her lightly, and they finished up the shoot quickly. On the drive home though, she looked at Jordan again. “No really, Jord, how did you know that? Was it just a lucky guess?”

Jordan frowned, although she kept her eyes on the road. She didn’t want to admit that she secretly didn’t mind Leah’s country music playlists. And she definitely couldn’t admit that she had noticed her favorite artists and listened to them on her own time because she wanted to learn more about what Leah liked — no need to come off as a smitten, lovestruck fool, even if she was. “Honestly Lee, I just remembered seeing him on your Spotify playlists.”

“Yeah, but you usually never notice that stuff.”

“I always notice you, Leah. Probably know more about you than you think,” Jordan said, her competitiveness kicking in again. She knew Leah would take the bait, and she did. “Oh yeah? Like what?” Jordan smiled. Behind football, Leah was probably the subject she knew best.

“I know that your favorite color is green but half your closet is red because it’s Arsenal colors. I know you only eat ham sandwiches before matches with the crust off like your mum makes it. I know you call your brother before every one of his games but you told Phil Neville you hate talking on the phone so he texts you and you don’t have to hear his voice. I know you’re a gunner for life but you love playing for England more than anything. And that you put Luke Combs on every time you think of home, which is a lot.”

When Jordan glanced over at Leah, she had an pensive, unreadable expression on her face. Shit. Had she given too much away? “Besides, you play that crap around the flat so much it’s impossible for me to forget. Which is saying something.”

“Guess I underestimated you,” Leah said finally, in a much softer tone. She didn’t say anything else until they got back to the flat, suddenly giving Jordan a light peck on the cheek before disappearing inside, leaving her to fumble with the lock until her cheeks stopped flushing.

3.

Jordan jogged into the dressing room, trying to keep her legs warmed up before the second half. Arsenal was currently nil-nil against Chelsea, and the tough match was not made any easier by the currently frigid temperatures. Inside, Viv kicked at the ground frustratedly. “I can’t get around them, the centre-backs.” The team nodded, all of them tired from the scrappy game they were having to play. Jordan patted her on the back.

“Try holding back outside of the box before the cross comes in, and then making your run. Millie’ll mark you closely but you can outstride her if you make her have to turn around, and Magda will try and clear it but I think you can beat her in the air.”

Viv blinked. “You think so? Bright is very fast.”

Jordan shrugged. “Yeah, but her strength is in her heading and they’ve got her marking you for some reason. Just watch her hips and when she’s turned the other way, make your run. Just try it, and if it doesn’t work you’ll figure something out, Miss All-time Top Scorer.”

From across the room, Leah added, “Trust her. She watches film for hours at home, she’s probably stared at Millie enough to have every hair in her bun memorized.” 

There was a pause, and then Lisa yelled out, “Jealous, Leah?” The team burst into laughter, drowning out what Jordan assumed to be protests coming from Leah’s quickly-reddening face. Of course she wasn’t jealous — as if there was anything to be jealous of, since Leah had been the only one for Jordan for a while now. But it didn’t matter, since she knew Leah would never see her that way.

“Come on, guys,” Kim stood, when they got the signal to head back onto the pitch. “Let’s focus on the game.” Jordan was more than happy to comply, pushing back those depressing thoughts.

Only three minutes into the second half, Viv scored, doing just what Jordan had said — a perfect header from Lisa’s cross, with Chelsea unable to do anything to stop it. She immediately turned to Jordan, grinning at her, and Jordan beamed right back. But when she looked away, it was to Leah’s glowing face before they all got swept into the group hug to celebrate the goal.

4.

Things were easy with Leah, Jordan found. Living together had become like second nature, with the two of them quickly finding a rhythm that suited both of them. Jordan cooks, because all Leah can make is ham sandwiches, and Leah takes out the trash because Jordan always, always, forgets. Jordan learned that while Leah can go into a Cup final with no visible fear, accounting exams make her so nervous that it’s best not to bother her beforehand, or risk getting snapped at. Leah learned that after a loss Jordan doesn’t want to talk until after she’s had dinner and called her dad.

Jordan also learned that Leah, for all her decisiveness on the field and most of the time off of it, is absolute rubbish at making plans. Specifically, planning trips, like the weekend one she was taking to her parents’ house back in Milton Keynes. Her car was in the shop, and Jordan had already agreed to coaching a clinic that day, although she had offered to drop it to drive Leah.

“No, Jords, I don’t want you to do that. You already agreed to it, and you love coaching.”

Not as much as I love you, Jordan thought, but swallowed the thought quickly. “Really Leah, I’ll just reschedule. It’s no problem.”

“It’s fine. I’ve taken public transport before, a little practice won’t hurt.”

Jordan had let it rest, but a week later and three days before the trip she came back to the flat to find Leah at the countertop, staring frustratedly at a map. “Why are there so many damn routes,” she groaned.

Jordan chuckled. “I told you, just take the train. It’ll be fastest, and easiest.”

Leah shook her head. “Yeah, but I don’t want to spend all that extra money when I could also take a bus.” Jordan always teased her for being cheap, since they both made a decent living from the WSL contracts and endorsement deals. But Leah was careful about her budgeting — part of being an accountant-in-training, Jordan figured.

“Why don’t you just let me drive you to the London Euston station-” she held her hand up to stop Leah’s protests “- it’s only half an hour, and I need to go into London for the clinic anyway. Then you can take the 8:20 and be there by 9:00 and your mum can pick you up. That’s about 60 euros, roundtrip, and before you say anything, it’s worth it. You hate the bus because it’s cramped and takes ages and you’d be worrying the whole time about the changeover and your carry-ons getting nicked. Just save yourself the trouble — you deserve a nice trip.”

Leah just looked at her for a moment, before shaking her head and laughing. “You’re right, of course. Where would I be without you?”

“On a bus, and miserable,” Jordan said, and turned away towards her room, missing the sincerity in Leah’s eyes when she quietly replied “True.”

+1.

“She’d say yes, you know. If you asked her.” Jordan quickly looked away from the field, where a certain blonde defender was doing keepy-ups with Katie, killing time after training. Danielle Carter fixed her with an unimpressed stare.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jordan mumbled. Dan just scoffed.

“You’re right. It _would_ be stupid to ask her out considering the two of you are practically _married_ as it is. But you’re obviously gone for her. Why not just tell her?”

Jordan pretended to be very interested in the foam roller at her feet. Although she was pretty much back to 100% at this point, she still followed the physio’s orders to do a little rehab occasionally. And she always liked talking with Dan, although a little less so at the moment.

“She doesn’t see me like that. We’re just good mates. I mean, she’s the face of the club and the next England star and probably straight anyway and all I’m good at is football- Hey!” She ducked as Dan threw her own roller at her.

“Stop that rubbish right now, Nobbs. You’re way smarter than that. There’s no way she’s ‘out of your league’ or any bullshit like that — we’re all in the same league. The Women’s Super League, if you’ve forgotten. Champions League if Joe can get his shit together.” That forced a chuckle out of Jordan, but Dan continued. “As for straight? She looks at you like you hung the moon, mate. Even when she’s taking the mick out of you, you’re the only one she’s got eyes for. If she’s straight as a ruler, it’s one of those bendy plastic ones.”

Jordan shook her head. “Look Dan, I appreciate it but it just won’t happen. Even if she is into girls I’d never be one of them. I don’t want to ruin what we have just because I’ve gone and wound up head over heels for a girl that’ll never-” She stopped, seeing Dan’s alarmed face and subtly but frantically shaking her head. “What?” She looked back at the field, only to see that it was empty. Realizing what had happened like it was slow motion, she turned the other way to see Leah behind her, looking at her with pure shock on her face and something unreadable in her eyes.

Fuck.

“Lee- I-" Jordan's mouth was flapping but she couldn't find the words fast enough. "I’m so sorry, this doesn’t have to change anything, I know you don’t-”

Before Jordan could finish scrambling to find her words, Leah cut her off by grabbing and kissing her, hard. Distantly, she could hear Katie whooping and Dan muttering, “Fucking finally.” But all she could focus on was Leah’s lips on hers and the tight grip she had on her shirt. When they finally broke apart, all Jordan could manage was a weak, “What?”

Pressing her forehead against Jordan’s, Leah just shook her head. “You’re so stupid. I’ve been waiting for you to make your move, Nobbs.”

Usually Jordan hates being called stupid. But when it was Leah saying it, with a soft smile on her face and pure fondness in her eyes, Jordan found that she didn’t mind it quite so much at all. She had never been happier to be wrong.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for giving this a chance! i know the fandom is heavily uswnt-biased but i love the arsenal girls. write the fic you wish to see in the world, etc etc. if you're a european football fan reading this: please god write more fic. we need representation. and i just want to read fic not write it ya feel.
> 
> drop a kudos or comment if you like! but again if you Really loved this you would show it by... writing your own arsenal fics for me ;)


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